


Harry Loves Pinky

by kinky_kneazle



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-05
Updated: 2010-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/pseuds/kinky_kneazle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During his birthday dinner, Harry suddenly finds himself wearing a leather jacket in Milwaukee in the 1950s.  And is that Draco in pink?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Loves Pinky

**Author's Note:**

> This all comes from [jamie2109's random thoughts](http://jamie2109.livejournal.com/373332.html) about stockcar driver!Draco with a pink neckerchief. That made me think of Pinky Tuscadero, and here is the result. Written for the awdt prompt "risk of serious injury."

Harry was so caught up in yelling at Draco, that it wasn't until he called the man "Pinky" that he realised something was wrong.

"Why did you just call me Pinky, Fonzie?" Draco asked, and that made them both stop.

"Fonzie?"

"Pinky?"

Harry knew that it was Draco he had been yelling at at the Three Broomsticks for spilling wine down his back. He knew it was Draco standing in front of him now. But The Three Broomstick's didn't have booths or a jukebox or college pennants on the wall. And Draco had been wearing robes before, not pink cowboy boots, very short white shorts and a pink shirt tied at his midriff showing off smooth, muscled abdominals. Harry turned to Hermione so that he could stop looking at that bare skin.

"Ritchie?" he asked.

"Oh, boy."

"No. It's Hermione, isn't it? What's going on? Where are we?"

"Well, it looks like this is Arnold's Drive-in. And we're in Milwaukee in the 1950s."

"What are you on about?"

"Harry, this is Happy Days. I know Pinky and Ralph, I mean Ron, wouldn't have seen it, but this was popular when we were growing up."

"Hermione, the muggle part of my childhood was just as messed up as the wizarding part. The Dursley's didn't let me watch TV in case I enjoyed it."

"Oh. Well, this is a show about Milwaukee in the 1950s, and a family called the Cunninghams. And this is where all the kids hang out. And it looks like I'm Ritchie, Ron is Ralph Malph and you're The Fonz - the coolest guy in town."

"And who's Draco?"

Hermione's lip caught in her teeth. "Not a regular. Pinky, Pinky, Pinky." Hermione paced around the dancefloor. "I think she only appeared in a few episodes. As Fonzie's love interest."

Suddenly everyone was looking at Harry again.

"You look really good dressed like that, Fonzie," Draco purred as he stepped forward to run a hand over Harry's leather jacket.

"Draco, stop that! My name is Harry."

"Sorry, Harry. But you do look good."

"Hermione, what's wrong with him?"

"That's how girls react to the Fonz, Harry. I mean, click your fingers."

Harry wondered what the hell he was doing, but clicked his fingers anyway. Suddenly every girl in the place was crowded around him, smiling and stroking his hair. In the meantime, applause echoed around them, seeming to come from the air itself. He looked at Hermione for help as Draco started kicking girls in the shins.

"Just send them away."

"Oh, you can go now." The girls frowned and wandered back to their booths.

"Okay, Ritchie, why are we here?"

"I think it might be my fault. At the Department of Mysteries we've been working with alternate universes that can be accessed through televisions. But we've only succeeded in finding old reruns."

"And what does that have to do with the peaceful birthday dinner we were having before the ferret turned up and spilt his drink on Harry?" Ron asked.

Hermione blushed. "I was running late, and left the device in my bag." Harry saw her pull out a remote control. "I'm sorry."

"Apologise to Harry. It's his birthday you've ruined. Though, if I could take a picture of Draco like that and publish it in the front page of the Daily Prophet it would probably make my day."

Harry absent-mindedly held Draco back from attacking Ron as he thought about what he'd do with a photo of Draco dressed as he was.

Suddenly applause came from all around them again, and they looked around at the door.

A voice echoed. "Happy Days is taped before a live studio audience."

"That's Mum and Dad!" Ron and Hermione spoke at the same time.

"I mean, Mr and Mrs Cunningham," Ron said.

"No, Ron. It is your parents." Hermione looked around. "And there's Luna and Dean sitting in that booth. And that Ravenclaw girl that was sitting near us is staring at Harry."

Draco turned to glare at the girl Hermione pointed out.

"Everyone in the restaurant must have been dragged into this spell. But why can't they tell that something is wrong?"

"Hermione, I don't care. I want to go back to the restaurant and finish celebrating my birthday. So can you please hit stop or pause or eject or whatever you press so that we can get out of here?"

"Ritchie, dear," Mrs Weasley said as she approached. "Aren't you supposed to be at the television station?"

"Am I?"

"You wanted that journalism job so much, and now you're just ignoring it," Mr Weasley said. "Son, that's hardly the right way to go about building your future."

"Of course not. I was just helping Harry with something." She looked at Harry, eyes begging for help.

"Who's Harry?" Mrs Weasley asked.

"I mean, Fonzie." Hermione stepped towards him and hissed under her breath. "We four were the closest. That must be why we know what's going on."

"Oh, what were you all doing?"

"I was telling Pinky that she can't be my partner in the Demolition Derby tomorrow."

"You were?" Draco asked.

"Yes. It's no place for a girl. Ralph can drive instead." Harry didn't know where these lines were coming from, but he seemed to know what he had to say.

Mr and Mrs Weasley turned to Ralph to ask him if he could cope, and Hermione looked at Harry.

"Where did you get that?" she mouthed.

He shrugged and smiled as the Weasleys turned back to him.

It was then that Crabbe and Goyle walked in.

"The Mallachi brothers," Hermione breathed.

"Pinky!" Crabbe kissed Draco's hand. "It would be my honour to have a beautiful woman like you drive with me in my car tomorrow. Would you care to join me?"

Harry hadn't thought Crabbe knew that many words, but he really didn't like the look in Draco's eyes as he stepped away.

"She can't. She's driving with me."

"Oh, Fonzie!" Draco stepped back into Harry's arms. "Let's go get my car ready!"

With that, Harry walked out of the Diner, Draco in his arms.

 

Harry found himself fading in to a garage with a pink car in it, a giant red M painted on the side.

"What happened?"

"Those damned Mallachi brothers! They've wrecked my car!"

"You know if you drive in a Demolition Derby you could break a nail, don't you Draco."

"Harry, I played Quidditch for years at school. What makes you think I'm the kind of man to worry about a broken nail?"

"Well, you're a priss. With the blond hair, and the pink clothes…"

"I DIDN'T CHOOSE THE CLOTHES!"

"Okay, I'm sorry." Harry turned to the car. "I'm not sure how to fix it, but I feel like I should, I don't know, bang my fist against the hood."

"So do it."

Harry lightly punched the hood and it popped open. The engine was completely wrecked.

"I can't drive, can I?"

"Are you upset about it?"

"I don't know. I don't know how to drive, so this is probably the best thing to happen to me. But there's this, I don't know, Pinky side to me that's really disappointed."

"And which side of you is it that keeps wanting to touch me?" Harry asked as Draco ran a hand over his chest.

"The Pinky side!" Harry wished he'd shut up as the hand was snatched away.

 

"Well, a bit of magic will fix this, if we can use it here."

Hermione, Ron and Neville rushed in arms full of bags.

"Whose Neville playing?" Draco whispered.

"Someone called Potsie."

"We've got the parts you wanted, Fonzie." Neville said.

"And we've got the paint!" Ginny said rushing in dressed all in pink. The Pinkettes, that Fonzie side of him told Harry.

"Great! Now lets get this car fixed. Don't worry, Draco. Next time we fade in, we'll be getting ready to drive."

And with that, Harry felt himself fading out again.

Sure enough, Harry next found himself standing beside a car. Draco, dressed in a very comely pink leather jumpsuit was standing beside him.

"I don't want to wear a helmet," Draco was saying. "It will mess up my hair."

"You're an idiot. You could get hurt."

"I'm a wizard. What's the worst they could do?"

"Gentlemen," Hermione's voice came over the loudspeaker. "It's time to get into your cars."

"Good luck out there, Pinky."

"And getting into her Pinkmobile is Pinky Tuscadero. At risk of serious injury to herself, this little lady is determined to be the first female Demolition Derby driver in history. Give her a round of applause everyone."

Harry could hear the creepy echoing applause start again as he got into his car.

"Gentlemen, start your junk!" The sound of starting engines echoed around him. "And go!"

He shot forward, looking to Draco's pink car and seeing that whatever magic was at work here had allowed Draco to drive a car. There was a walkie talkie, and he picked it up and pressed the button.

"Draco, you can drive?"

"Yes. This is fun!" The Slytherin's competitive nature had come to the fore and he had hurtled forward to ram into a red car. Then Harry took a bump from behind and started concentrating on his own driving.

No matter where he was, he could sense Draco's car as well, and couldn't find a sense of impending doom. He thought that was it when his car stalled. He turned the key again and again.

"Try hitting it like you did the hood," Draco said over the walkie talkie.

Harry did, and it started again so he could shoot out from danger. Harry was surprised at how well Draco was doing. Maybe it was the Seeker instincts that were also allowing him to move around the ground quickly. And they were working as a team as well, a timely shout often helping the other out of trouble.

It seemed like hours, but maybe it was only minutes before Harry found it was only himself, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle left. That was when disaster struck and Draco's car stopped.

"I'll fix it!"

"No, Draco! STAY IN YOUR CAR!" Harry yelled as loud as he could, but Draco must not have heard. Instead, he got out of his pink car, was hit by Goyle.

"NO!"

There was silence echoing through Harry's brain as he saw Draco lying on the ground, blond hair spread around him, and blood coming from a cut on his head.

He got out of the car and ran to Draco, but was pushed aside by paramedics.

"Fonzie," Hermione said. "You have to finish the Derby. You have to win. For Pinky."

"Fonzie," Draco said weakly, pulling a pink scarf from his neck. "Take this. For luck. And beat those bastards."

Then Draco was taken away and Harry walked back to his car.

"And Pinky Tuscadero is being taken away by ambulance ladies and gentlemen. A lot of excitement happening here today. Her departure leaves The Fonz going up against the Mallachi brothers all by himself. Can he do it?"

"It's just fiction. Just a show," Harry said to himself as he started the engine again. "Draco will be fine."

Harry, Crabbe and Goyle were the only ones left in the competition, and Harry was sitting between them. He wondered if the Mallachi Brothers were as dumb as Crabbe and Goyle and decided to take a gamble. He turned the engine off, then pretended to turn the key again and again. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to take the bait, getting ready to crush him between their two cars in a move called The Mallachi Crush.

As they got close he turned the key and shot forward. As he'd hoped, the two cars hit each other.

"And Arthur Fonzarelli wins the Derby!" Hermione was yelling, but Harry didn't care. He had to get to the hospital.

He faded in again in a hallway at the hospital, with Hermione beside him.

"Am I meant to want to marry him, Hermione?"

"I'm pretty sure that was the plotline Harry, so don't worry about what you're feeling too much."

"You're not going to try to talk me out of it?"

"Of course not. You and Draco certainly have chemistry together. I think all that fighting you do could be channelled into a much more productive outlet, such as sex. I've worked with him for a long time - he's smart, kinder than you give him credit for, likes Quidditch. You've got a lot in common. I think you should go for it."

"I was talking about Pinky and Fonzie."

"Oh, they're definitely made for each other. It's how the writers wanted it."

"I want to buy him a house with a white picket fence and a dog named Spunky."

"Pinky? Or Draco?"

Harry wasn't sure whether it was Fonzie's feelings or his own. But Draco had handled the situation without a lot of grumbling – not even at the fact that he'd been turned into a girl. He'd taken on driving with courage, and he did look very good in short white shorts. Maybe they didn't want a white picket fence, but a dog named Spunky sounded pretty cool.

That's what Harry was picturing when Draco was wheeled out, a pink bandage around his head.

"I don't look so bad in pink."

"You look gorgeous," Harry said, handing back the pink scarf. "Are you alright?"

"It's just a minor bump. Nothing to get concerned about."

"Pinky, let's do it!"

"Here? In front of everyone?"

"I meant, let's get married."

"Oh, Fonzie!"

And that's when Harry kissed Draco for the first time. It was wet and firm and oh so good and then they started fading into black again and Harry didn't know who he wanted to kill as he found himself staring at the Pinkettes telling him about Pinky's appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show.

"And you'll get married at the midfield of the Daytona 500. Doesn't that sound cool?"

"Bye Fonzie!"

"Hermione? What's going on?"

"In the original episode Fonzie told Pinky that he didn't want to be Mr Pinky Tuscadero and called off the wedding."

"Oh." Harry's face fell.

"But I've been trying to get us out every time I'm on screen and nothing is working. So I think you should change the ending."

"How do you know that keeping the ending the same won't end the episode and get us out of here?"

"Because everyone loves a happy ending. And if it doesn't work, we'll just fix it in the next episode."

Neville and Ron walked in.

"Fonzie, can we go to the garage and look at the nudie pictures in your National Geographics?"

"Hermione, can you get them out of here?"

"Sure, come on guys." Hermione led Ron and Neville past Draco as he walked into the diner.

"I know we have to break up, Harry. The script is pushing me along, and you don't want to be Mr Pinky Tuscadero. But when we get back to the real world… Well. Just do it, will you!"

"Draco, I've been Harry Potter since I was eleven years old. I don't need to be in the spotlight. I'm more than happy to be Mr Pinky Tuscadero. Or even Mr Draco Malfoy, if it comes to that. If the white picket fence and the dog named Spunky don't come for a while, so be it."

"What dog named Spunky? Hang on! You mean that?"

"Yes. Let's get married at Daytona."

"Oh, Fonzie!"

And as the applause echoed through the air again, Harry and Draco kissed for the second time. This time they pressed close together, Draco's hands in his hair and Harry felt like he was falling and it felt so amazing that it was like explosions were happening all around them, and maybe it wasn't such a bad birthday after all.

"What are you doing with HIM?"

"Frank, get down!"

Harry ducked as a bomb _did_ land close by.

"Who am I?" Harry asked.

"Hawkeye is the name I'm getting."

"And Draco, you're Hotlips. Hermione is Frank. Ron is Trapper. But where are we and why are there bombs?"

"This is M*A*S*H. The Korean War," Hermione replied.

"Oh, boy."   



End file.
